god and sinners reconcile
by AtLoLevad
Summary: Karen gets some unexpected news that she has to share with Frank.


It's an accident. A _goddamn_ accident.

Except. Except, accidents are for teenagers who think pulling out is acceptable birth control.

Accidents are not for 34-year-old journalists. Accidents are especially not for 34-year-old journalists that are sleeping with The Punisher.

Karen groans and pushes her hair off of her face. She spits into the toilet and stands up on shaky legs. Grabbing her toothbrush, she avoids looking in the mirror until she's done. When she finally does catch sight of her reflection, she doesn't look any different. Still pale - maybe a little green from the nausea - same dark circles under her eyes. But nothing in her face gives away her secret.

She's not ready to be a mother - not even sure she wants to be a mother at all. And Frank -

 _Frank. Frank. Frank._

Her heart pounds in her chest and it sounds like his name.

Oh Christ.

Frank.

She has to tell Frank. Or does she? No, she thinks, brushing away that thought as fast as it came. Of course she has to tell Frank. He'd kill her if she didn't. But...

She sinks onto the couch and drops her head to her hands.

"Jesus Christ, Karen," she mutters to herself. "How the fuck could you let this happen?"

She and Frank had been sleeping together for just about a year - not labeling anything, but she knew and he knew and he was _Frank_ _Castle_ and she was Karen Page and it was hard.

They were always careful though. Karen was on the Pill and Frank wore condoms every - oh. No, Karen thinks back. Two months ago. He hadn't. Tears well up in her eyes. He hadn't and she'd let him.

* * *

 _Karen curled up on her couch, scribbling at a legal pad - editing an article - when the door to her apartment had banged open._

 _Jumping up, terrified, she caught sight of her late night guest and yelped, "Jesus Christ, Frank! Scared me half to death."_

 _"Sorry, ma'am," he replied, voice like crunching gravel. The side of his face was caked in blood._

 _"Frank!" she ran to his side, lifting her hand to his face but not touching him._

 _"S'not mine," he growled. His hands curled into fists at his side and a muscle in his jaw ticked._

 _Billy Russo._

 _The only one who could get that reaction from Frank - who could cause that look of rage in his eyes._

 _"Oh," she murmured. Her hand dropped to his wrist and she tugged gently, guiding him to the bathroom. "Let me clean you up."_

 _He sat on the edge of the tub and stared off into the distance as Karen gently wiped at the blood on the side of his face. He had been telling the truth. His skin wasn't split, just bruised._

 _Her fingers were cool against his overheated skin and Frank needed a release. His hands gripped at Karen's hips tightly. She bit her lip and discarded another bloody towel._

 _"Frank," she murmured, catching his gaze and nodding a little - permission, consent, the sign he needed._

 _Letting out a little growl, Frank stood abruptly and crushed his lips to hers. He wasn't gentle, but Karen didn't mind. She bit his lip gently and Frank tugged at her leggings, pulling them and her underwear down. Karen shuffled, stepping out of the pants and leaving them on the floor. Frank pulled away and made quick work of his own pants, leaving them in a heap with Karen's. He grabbed her and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist._

 _Karen threw her head back and moaned as Frank thrust up into her. He stretched her to her limits, filling her to the point where it was almost uncomfortable. Frank pulled at her hair, bringing his mouth to her collarbone and biting a mark there._

 _"Bed, Frank. Please," she moaned, raking her nails over his scalp._

 _"Yes, ma'am," his voice was rough, distracted. He lifted her off of him, but still carried her to her bedroom. Karen bounced a little when he dropped her to the bed before yanking his shirt roughly over his head and throwing it to the side. Karen scrambled to get her own shirt off before Frank was back on top of her._

 _She gazed up at him and a spike of arousal flooded her belly. She loved this man, against all of her better judgment._

 _The cold rage behind his eyes was gone now - replaced with warmth - for her - and a deeper anger and betrayal - at Billy. Karen shivered at the thought of what Frank would do to Billy when he saw his old friend again, after this most recent escape. She didn't have much time to think before Frank was on her again, fucking her hard and fast._

 _She moaned his name, fisting the sheets under her. He pounded into her, barely taking a moment to catch his own breath. Frank had always been tender, gentle when they had sex. Now he was pumping into her with an intensity Karen had only witnessed him display in a fight. She might've been scared if she didn't know the man. But this was Frank Castle and he wouldn't do anything to hurt her._

 _"Frank, oh my god, Frank," she shouted, digging her fingers into the back of his neck. He leaned down and sucked a bruise onto the top swell of her breast. Karen's back arched against the bed, lifting her hips to meet his._

 _Frank brushed his thumb over Karen's cheekbone, a tender gesture in the middle of the passionate fucking. She leaned into his touch and gasped as he thrust into her again, harder this time, his cock hitting exactly where she needed it to be._

 _She came minutes later with his name on her tongue and her heels digging into his ass._

 _He rode out his own orgasm just after she did, grunting her name and thrusting into her once more, harder than before._

 _His eyes finally lost some of the anger and Frank dropped, half of his body covering Karen's. She drew circles on his back, enjoying the feel of his heavy breaths against her neck._

 _They don't talk - she knew he wouldn't want to. Not this time._

 _Eventually, Frank rolled off of her, not going far, just to his side of the bed so she wouldn't be squished under his bulk._

 _"C'mere," he mumbled, pulling her against him. Her back was flush against his chest and she could feel every line of muscle. His arm looped around her waist - a heavy weight keeping her in place. Karen pressed a kiss to the inside of his bicep and rested her cheek against the same spot._

 _She wanted to tell him - a million things. But she kept her mouth shut because they're Frank Castle and Karen Page and voicing feelings is dangerous for both of them._

 _"Didn't hurt ya, Karen, did I?" he muttered against the back of her neck, his body going tense waiting for her answer._

 _"Not at all, Frank," she replied, tracing her fingers over the veins in his forearm. "You okay?"_

 _He didn't respond - Karen was pretty sure he wouldn't. He's been better - more open - since joining Curtis' veterans' group. But he's still Frank and old habits die hard._

 _Karen yawned and wiggled closer to his body, enjoying the warmth. Her eyes drifted shut and the last thing she remembered was Frank's warm breath on her neck._

 _She woke to a cold bed and sticky thighs._

 _But there were fresh lilacs in a glass - a makeshift vase - on her kitchen counter and a large cup of her favorite coffee - still steaming - next to them._

 _He hadn't been gone long, but Karen felt his absence acutely._

* * *

She missed him when he was gone; it was as simple as that. And Frank was gone more than he was around. She didn't blame him - not completely. But she hated his disappearing act with a passion.

Sighing, Karen sipped at the coffee and touched the lilacs gently.

Maybe he wouldn't be gone so long this time.

She feels stupid and silly for letting it happen. Like a teenager with her first boyfriend.

Bare bones details play out like a young adult novel.

Girl meets boy. Girl falls for boy. Boy and girl have sex - forget condom once and girl is pregnant. Girl hasn't seen boy since that night.

She wants to yell, rage at Frank, at the government, at the unfairness of it all.

She wishes he really were Pete Castiglione, normal man with a normal construction job.

But he's not. He's Frank Castle, he's The Punisher, he's -

He needs to know. She needs him to know.

But with Frank, he makes the calls. They never call him.

Curt or David, she thinks, may know how to reach him. Karen reaches for her phone and her thumb is already unlocking the screen when she decides differently. She doesn't want other people - no matter how trustworthy Curt and David are - to know that she's asking about Frank. Her phone slips from her hand and bounces on the couch. A sudden feeling of hopelessness overtakes Karen and she hates it. She's not hopeless; she's not the mooning love interest in Frank's story. This is her story too, dammit.

So, feeling silly and selfish, she gets up and finds the fake white flowers in her hall closet and sets them firmly on her windowsill.

Frank needs to know and more importantly? She thinks that Frank would _want_ to know. Her heart beats faster at the thought of Frank's reaction.

* * *

The flowers sit on her windowsill for three days before he shows up - his arrival coinciding with the first chills of winter.

Karen looks up from her laptop and - "Jesus _Christ_ , Frank! I _hate_ it when you do that."

He gives her a little sideways smile, "sorry. Old habits."

"You know you have a key, right?" she sighs, blue eyes twinkling a little because he's _here_ , he's _back_.

"Window's more fun," Frank shrugs, still standing by the window. "Everything okay?" He nods towards the flowers, now knocked a little sideways from his entry.

Karen freezes.

No.

Maybe.

Yes. Now that you're back, she thinks.

She hesitates for only seconds, but it feels like hours before she talks again. "I think it will be?"

Frank raises an eyebrow. "Ma'am, you're not makin' sense."

"I know," Karen laughs, a hysterical little noise. The sight of Frank's concerned frown sends her into sudden hysterical sobbing.

"Whoa! Karen," Frank is by her side in seconds, kneeling on the floor next to her chair. "Karen, it's okay. Sh sh sh," he tries to soothe her, stroking her hair off of her face.

"I'm sorry!" she sobs, sliding off of the chair and into his embrace. Frank rocks her a little as she clutches onto his shirt.

"Karen, you got nothin' to be sorry about," he says; voice low and soft - his default tone with her.

"But I do," she mumbles into his neck.

"Karen, look at me," Frank pulls away, cupping her face in his hands. Tears fall quickly down her cheeks and he uses the pads of his thumbs to brush them away as fast as they fall. "There ain't nothin' you could do to me that would need an apology. I promise."

His eyes are so open, voice so earnest. Karen sucks her lower lip into her mouth and blurts it out.

"I'm pregnant."

Frank's thumbs still over her cheekbones and his mouth drops open a little. His eyes dart over her face, looking for any sign of a joke.

Karen swears she can hear his heart beat skip and then go into double time. She wishes she could stop crying - she feels stupid and selfish. This is about both of them and she just dropped a bomb on him.

"Frank?" she whispers, "Please say something. I know, I know this isn't - "

"Shh," he smiles a little - not the broad ones that are so rare, but this one is just barely a quirk of his lips. "Karen..."

He's speechless, is what he is. He shakes his head a little, still processing.

Karen waits, expectantly, for him to say _something_. His hands haven't moved from her face and she resists the urge to lean into his touch.

"How're you feeling?" he asks quietly, the first thing that he can articulate. Maria'd had morning sickness with both kids and was constantly nauseous.

"Me?" Karen asks, voice high pitched in surprise. "Me? How are _you_? This isn't something we talked about."

Frank shrugs, "Never really talked kids with Maria either."

"I don't -" Karen cuts herself off with a new flood of tears. "They're your family."

Frank brushes away Karen's fresh tears and pulls her close for a hug. She clings to him.

"Told this to Lieberman two years ago and I figure it's about time I told you too," he says, hesitating over the words. It's easier that he's not looking her in the eye. "You're family too, Karen. Maria and the kids - I'm, hell, I'm always gonna miss 'em. But Curt. His thing is to keep movin' forward and live in the present. All that spiritual shit."

Karen lets out a little giggle against Frank's shoulder and he smiles.

"I'm okay, Karen. Hell, I'm happy," he says, leaning back so he can look her in the eye. "I'm real happy. I'm scared as fuckin' hell, but happy."

Karen lets out a watery laugh. "That makes two of us." She sighs, "I don't know what I'm doing, Frank."

"We'll figure it out together," he replies as if it's as easy as that.

"I haven't seen you in two months," Karen points out. Her crying has mostly stopped, but that means her worry and anxiety are brought to the forefront. "You're the Punisher, Frank."

"I know what I am," his response is terse. Karen winces because that's not what she meant.

"I don't care about that, Frank," she says emphatically. "I just mean...you disappear. And... and I worry about you."

Her fingers find a yellowing bruise on his wrist and she traces the shape as if to prove her point. Frank watches her fingers move and he sighs.

"I can't make promises, Karen," he says finally.

"I don't need promises," Karen shakes her head. "I just need you."

"Jesus, you have me, Karen. You've had me since the beginning," he says, somehow managing to sound completely lost to her and grounded at the same time.

"I'm so scared, Frank," she confesses. "And I _hate_ that I'm so scared."

She stands and steps away from him - even though that's the last thing she wants. Frank stands too and she can hear his knees crack.

"Can we take this one step at a time?" Frank asks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looks tired, but there's a spark of happiness in his dark eyes.

Karen wraps her hands around her stomach, thinking about the life growing there - half her and half Frank.

"Okay," she says.

"Okay," he smiles again - the same small, hopeful smile.

"Okay," she laughs lightly. "What's next, Frank?"

"How 'bout dinner?" he suggests.

"Dinner sounds good," Karen agrees. "I am kind of hungry."

He helps her into her jacket and holds open the door for her, resting his hand hesitantly on her lower back as she steps into the hallway.

"Eatin' for two now, ma'am," he says dryly.

Karen laughs and chews her lower lip for a moment before tentatively slipping her hand into Frank's. He looks down at their joined hands and then up to Karen's face. Her cheeks are flushed and she looks nervous. Frank gives her one of those smiles - open and reserved only for Karen - before squeezing her fingers lightly and setting course down the block.

* * *

 _A/N: More Kastle fic! I had fun writing this one - it seems like angst is my default for these two lol. I'd love some comments and prompts. Let me know what you think :)_


End file.
